


Not Like Leonard Nimoy

by Purna



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-12
Updated: 2008-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purna/pseuds/Purna
Summary: From an LJ prompt: How did the members of Atlantis find out that McKay and Sheppard were sweet on one another?





	Not Like Leonard Nimoy

It's Major Spock's second month on Atlantis and her third trip through the gate when she notices. It happens on a little milk run of a mission. Easy peasy, according to her new CO, but he still insists on accompanying her and her brand new team. 

She's been suppressing her irritation at being baby sat like that. Because, damn it, she might be new to Pegasus, but she's lost count of the missions she's led through the Earth gate. 

"The perimeter's secure, Colonel Sheppard," she says, coming to attention smartly, the precision just this side of insolent. Sheppard raises a lazy eyebrow at her, and it's all she can do to suppress her flush.

"At ease, Major Spock," Sheppard drawls. 

"Spock." It's Dr. McKay, as acerbic as she'd been warned back at SGC. He seems to be ever present at Sheppard's side, and he's openly laughing at her. "Spock," he snorts again, nudging Sheppard's elbow. "That's great. No, that's fascinating."

"Rodney," Sheppard says, but he sounds amused more than anything, and his lips are twitching.

"Spock," they say at the same time, and she can feel her eyes narrow.

Sheppard notices her reaction and goes still. "Sorry, Major. It's not you; we're just a little punchy right now."

Dr. McKay's expression deflates a little, his shoulders slumping, and it's then that Spock sees how exhausted they both are, their identically pinched expressions and tired eyes. 

The other two members of Sheppard's team are taking in the sun with their eyes closed, basking like cats. They're in no way relaxed, though. She can see it in their body language, nerves taut as wires, on the edge of dangerous. 

Sheppard's entire team is stretched thin. She remembers their crowded mission schedule, posted on the locker room whiteboard, and suddenly wonders who's really baby-sitting who here. 

Sheppard waves at the pristine white sand that stretches away from the stargate, towards the ocean that's a green so bright it looks dyed, fake. 

"This isn't a test, Major," he says tiredly. "Just a little R&R, a little quiet time before everything tries to kill us again. You good with that?"

She pauses. "Very good with that, sir," she manages, a little abashed at how she'd misread the situation. 

Sheppard meets her eyes, searching for something in her expression. He nods after a moment, apparently satisfied. "Cool."

And it may be a safe planet, "Gilligan's Island" as Dr. McKay calls it snidely, but she doesn't relax entirely. 

It's decided with a silent, shared glance among her team; she's got a good group, and they've already managed to forge a unit, wordless communication. They keep watch as Sheppard's team unwinds, keep things safe.

She's read the reports, knows that nothing is a certainty in Pegasus, that appearances are treacherous here. But she's got energy to spare, and so does her team, and they'll gladly stand guard here, take on the burden for an afternoon.

It's worth it to see Sheppard's team unclench a little. The Satedan Ronon Dex pulls a cooler and a set of folding chairs out of nowhere, just like the knives that Lorne told her about. He settles into one of the chairs, the bright pink contraption of aluminum and canvas threatening to collapse under his weight, and pops open a beer. Dr. McKay dons a wide-brimmed hat, goofy enough that Sheppard immediately snorts, "That's some bad hat, Harry." McKay rolls his eyes at him and bitches at everyone until they put on some of his sunscreen.

Sheppard pulls off his boots and turns up the cuffs of his pants. He drags McKay into the surf, and they wade until a wave soaks them both to the chest. Dr. McKay shrieks and shakes himself like a dog, and that's when the Athosian woman finally laughs out loud. It's a bright, musical sound, and it's a shock after how solemn she's been since Spock first arrived on Atlantis. 

The sun's hovering low over the green sea when they're getting ready to leave. They're all dusting off the fine white sand and checking for sunburn when Spock sees it. 

Colonel Sheppard, in Dr. McKay's space, close as breathing. It's the briefest of moments, fleeting but intimate, Sheppard's lips at Dr. McKay's ear, a shared chuckle. Their hands brush close, fingers tangling for a split-second.

Dex catches her eye, a silent warning in his gaze. 

The sun is giving her a squint headache, and the wind has turned her neat bun into a tangled mess, but she's suddenly filled with something warm and happy and safe. Even here in a galaxy where a trip to the beach involves P90s and a backdrop of careful wariness, she can't help the smile that breaks out.

Because she's not alone here, because Dex is the spitting image of her baby brother. He looks exactly like Nate when he's trying to look dangerous, and she has to laugh.

"Don't worry, Dex," she says, shaking her head. "I think I'm going to like it here."


End file.
